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C H A T A N T May 2019
Above and below, I go.
To and fro, to and fro.
I'll row my rowing boat
To touch every jelly fish
And kiss every sharks lips.
Then I'll row,
Far across the star filled sea
To dance and bounce
On a whales leather belly.
And if he's hungry,
Perhaps I'll let him take a
Small bite out of me!
Star BG Apr 2019
My vessel imbedded drifts,
on swirling waves of verse
woven in tapestry of ocean.
Fish colorful enhance eyes for inspiration
Sails flap tickling ears
to loosen poetic thoughts gently.
My compass of heart leads.
Moments dissipate gracefully.
The day is beautiful with warm sun,
as I'm carried on uncharted sea of phases.

And as Captains log opens on return to shore,
I sit, in writing position before sea food dinner
The place where poems meet book.
Richard Barnes Thank you for inspiring me.
Marla Apr 2019
Boats arise in me
A need to escape.

The loud thud
Of collision
Still jolts my psyche
As I lay restless at night.

I didn't see his soul leave,
But I knew it was too late,
Even as I prayed
Through shocked tears.

That day;
That face;
That fear;
They haunt me
Eternally.
Ray Dunn Apr 2019
I cling to these drenched rails
of a strangers rocking ship,
one I boarded all while knowing
how the water makes me slip.
Im so tired y’all let’***** that yeet
Kieran Mar 2019
If you ride the wind,
Or at least motor yourself,
On a schooner out to ten pound island,
You may have the luxury of meeting Mooch.
He is the seagull who likes Cheetos.
Life for Mooch is simple,
All he has to do is sit on the arm of Owen,
The boy who pulls the sails
Or Captain Harold,
The man who built the boat,
And eat enough Cheetos to stuff his throat.
He never tells any of his friends,
For fear of missing out on Cheetos.
Oh, to be a seagull.
Oh, to mooch off of others
And still be loved.
Written about a trip in Gloucester harbor on a schooner.
Sweet Yiddish whispers in my black and white slippers
Delving into daydreams of dark and desperate days
Spilling turpentine on tiles tearing me away for miles
Feeling frantic flutters in the back of my brain
Bearing backlot benches bordering the land of Spain
Roses rowing to Roman seas that no one sees
Leering lullabies of lackadaisical lovers, known to never fly
I like the way this one sounds
Poppy Halafihi Jan 2019
Please No
Please Go home
Please Let go of me
Please Don’t touch me
Please Go away
Please Don’t do this
Please I won’t tell anyone
Please Get off me
Please You’re hurting me
Please I’m bleeding
Please I can’t breathe
Please I can’t take it anymore
Please Stop
Please...

If only I was able to say what I was thinking
Then maybe I wouldn’t be sinking
Trying to stay afloat
But I can’t quite reach the boat
I am not a strong swimmer
The waves are getting higher
Tangled in the seaweed
Afraid to bleed
the fear of the sharks
Are eating me apart
Ashamed of being a fish
Who’s scared of being squished
If the same horrible event occurred to 5 different people, not one of the would have responded the exact same way.
No way is wrong!
Don’t think for a second that it didn’t hurt me to leave you,”
she urges.
“Because it was the most painful thing that I’ve ever had to do. It was so, so difficult. It took every bit of strength that I had not to turn around and apologize.”

She takes a deep breath.

“So don’t tell yourself that I wanted to. I didn’t, not at all. But leaving you was the only way I could save myself.
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